


Search and Rescue

by grevesy



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Because all good fandoms need a Zombie!AU, Family, Friendship, Gen, Horror, Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grevesy/pseuds/grevesy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years ago the virus wiped out most of mankind, leaving the undead roaming the streets. A group of survivors known as the Guardians have been reunited for a secret, dangerous mission: to locate and retrieve Jack Frost, last known stranded deep within an infected city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick heads up that this fic might have sporadic updates. It's all planned out and I'm enjoying writing it, but I'm also swamped with work which (sadly) takes precedence. Any comments/thoughts appreciated. Unbeta'd.

Prologue

Two years ago, an unknown plague started spreading across much of the world. Before the authorities could try to limit its transmission it had already claimed thousands of lives. Once a person became infected, they had days left at most; so far the virus had a one hundred per cent mortality rate. 

The worst part was that the people that died…didn’t stay that way. As the death toll rose, rumours of the walking dead began to circulate. They didn’t stay rumours for long. 

Within a year, the virus had decimated most of the world. Governments had crumbled. The dead roamed unopposed through city streets and empty towns. Pockets of resistance formed, small groups that worked tirelessly, scavenging what they could, trying to maintain a form of civilisation. Survival depended on co-operation; those who struck out alone did not last long. 

Some of the smaller groups began to develop a reputation; tales of heroism and incredible luck were spread by word of mouth, eventually reaching those able to transmit the information on the remnants of the Internet and other communication channels. There were groups that became known for their skills at retrieval, at protection, tracking or extermination. Among these was a small, almost legendary group known as the Guardians; a band of four unusual individuals, each with specific skills and a knack for surviving even the most dangerous of situations. 

Over time, life began to take on a routine for the survivors. People struggled and lived day to day. Strongholds against the undead grew in size and number, and bandits roamed the wastes between them, battling for provisions away from the threat of the virus. For the Guardians, who had gone their own ways, their days took on a kind of normalcy that they had grown unaccustomed to.

And so, when the call came for them to reunite for one more mission, all of them accepted the challenge.


	2. The Call

Nicholas St. North sat in his workshop, bent over a cluttered bench with a welding torch in one hand and a half-built security drone in pieces before him. The machine was one of his own designs and had been used successfully in several skirmishes with the infected along the border of Santoff Claussen Stronghold. Only five were currently operational, and the one he was repairing had taken the brunt of the damage, rendering its propulsion mechanism useless and several of its circuits destroyed. It would take him several days to fix, and he had other projects to focus on as well.

He got to work, quickly becoming absorbed in his task. Once he’d fixed most of the chassis he turned his attention to the damaged motherboard, rooting around amongst his scavenged supplies for replacements and beginning the delicate task of soldering patches and cables together. Despite North’s large hands – and size in general – he worked quickly and deftly, years of experience informing his movements. So focused was he on his work that it took North several minutes to realise that his assistant, Phil, stood near his shoulder, clearly waiting for his attention but unwilling to risk disturbing him and possibly wasting his efforts.

Carefully setting the soldering iron to one side, North turned to face his large aide. Phil had been his assistant since the beginning of the infection, when North had risked his life to save him from a group of hungry undead. Since then Phil’s mechanical skills and dedication had proven invaluable in helping North create and maintain his inventions, although it had taken him a while to learn not to surprise North when he was working.

Phil muttered something indistinguishable through his beard and gestured to the small desk in the corner of the room where a battered laptop sitting open. North raised his eyebrows at the sight of the message icon blinking an alert and quickly moved to sit in front of the screen, Phil hovering behind him in curiosity.

“What?” North muttered as he opened the message and saw a request for a secure channel to chat. While some security was necessary to prevent information leaking to bandits and other unsavoury characters, secure channels were used rarely. That the message had come from his old friend Manny was also an unexpected surprise.

Quickly opening a new, encrypted channel and recognising Manny’s pseudonym already accessing it, North leaned in and spoke directly into the microphone. “Man in Moon, old friend! It has been too long!”

“Hello, North,” Manny replied, his voice crackling with static. “I’m afraid I didn’t contact you to talk. I need your help.”

North frowned in worry. The channel was audio only but Manny’s worry was clear in his voice.

“What is problem?” He asked. “You are in trouble?”

“No, I’m fine,” Manny responded quickly, “my base is probably the most secure on the planet. It’s someone else, and I’m unable to leave and help them myself.”

North shared a look with Phil. “Someone else?”

“Yes. Several weeks ago one of our convoys fell off the radar. Initially we thought it was just a communications error, but recent Intel suggests that it may have been attacked by bandits just outside of Burgess.”

“Burgess? That city is crawling with undead. If they survive bandits, they will not survive them!” Bandits tended to take everything of value. If they did leave anyone alive, the chances of survival without any weapons or provisions were next to nothing. It was likely that the entire convoy had been killed.

“I know, but we have reason to believe that a few may have survived and are trapped within the city.”

North ran a hand through his hair before tugging on his beard in thought. “So this is a rescue mission. But Burgess is very dangerous. There is chance they are already dead,” the Russian man cautioned.

“That’s why I’m asking you, old friend,” Manny responded. “Only you and the other Guardians would stand any chance of successfully rescuing any survivors.”

North hummed in consideration. Such a task would certainly be a test even for a group of the Guardian’s skill, and with every passing moment the chances of there being anyone left to rescue dwindled.

“What is so important that you would ask this of me?” North asked.

Manny hesitated before responding in a low tone. “One of those we believe to have survived the attack is a boy called Jack Frost. He was being transported here because he has vital information about the virus that may even help us discover a vaccine or cure. His survival is top priority. Do you understand?”

The information had dumbfounded North. “A boy? You say that there might be a child trapped in Burgess?” The thought was horrifying. Why Manny thought that a child could have information about a virus that had brought the world’s best scientific minds to a standstill was another thing entirely.

“Yes,” sighed Manny wearily. “Our satellites have captured images of someone matching his description in the city. It doesn’t look like he’s been infected.”

“The undead are so hungry now they leave nothing to come back with.” North added darkly. Silence reigned on both sides as they collected their thoughts. With a loud sigh, North slumped in his chair. “Very well. I will ask other Guardians. In the meantime, please send me all of your information on this mission. It will be hard enough as it is!”

Phil’s concerned grumble was drowned out by Manny’s relieved voice. “Thank you, North. I’ll send you the files shortly. I’m sure you know that time is of the essence, so I will leave you to it. Thank you again, and…good luck.”

With a click, the connection was terminated and North was left frowning at the blank screen. Phil grumbled again, questioning North’s sanity in taking on such a request, knocking him out of his thoughts and into action. He stood quickly and headed for the exit of his workshop.

“Phil!” He called back as he pulled on his large red overcoat. “I am going to signal other guardians. Get the Sleigh ready!”

With that, he hurried out the door towards the communications tent, leaving Phil rushing behind in his wake.

\---  
Once the call was sent out, the other Guardians responded quickly, sending word of their departure from their own strongholds and bases for Santoff Claussen.

“This better be good, North,” snapped Bunnymund once he had spotted North. “I had to leave in the middle of preparations for our winter harvest. Believe it or not but food is just as important as weaponry in keeping people alive.”

North just laughed, delighted to see his friend once again. E. Aster Bunnymund had based himself south of Santoff Claussen, in an old bunker that he and a group of other survivors had expanded and named ‘The Warren’. Most of it was based underground and Bunnymund spent most of his time working on and maintaining the hydroponics and solar grow lamps that enabled them to grow food underground. Agriculture had suffered greatly at the beginning of the infection, with no one to maintain the crops, livestock being killed or infected, and damage from attempts to stop the virus spreading. As a result, food had become scarce for the survivors, and when scavenging in the cities became too dangerous and unproductive Bunnymund had sent out a call for anyone with the knowledge and skills required to start safe food cultivation. Over the years the Warren had grown and was one of the major sources of food for many of the mainland strongholds.

“Bunny! So good to see you! You arrived very quickly.” North pounded Bunnymund’s back with more force than strictly necessary, causing the Australian to jerk forward to keep his balance.

With an annoyed sigh Bunnymund took off his outer coat, the fur skins being too warm to wear in the damp heat of North’s workshop. He wrinkled his nose at the strong smell of metal, motor oil and grease, unused to it after so long spent either out on the road or with the plants and animals of the Warren.

“Well it’s not like I took a push-bike. There was a road train headed here anyway so I hopped on that,” he grouched, grabbing a nearby chair to sit down on. “So you going to tell me what’s up, mate, or do I have to wait to hear it?”

North’s face turned serious, prompting Bunnymund to sit a little straighter and a frown to form on his face.

“It should not be long until others arrive. Then I will tell you important news.” North said, nodding. “Until then, we should have some food and drink! I will show you the latest toys. Automatic tracking system, face recognition, encryp--”

“Yeah, sure, sounds great,” Bunnymund interrupted, not interested in the details of North’s inventions. “You’re lucky all of us were nearby. Tooth was over in Asia only a couple months ago.” Since the outbreak he’d only returned once to Australia: the trip had taken its toll on him, not just the travelling but also what he’d found once he’d got there. It had been easier for him to focus his efforts here instead, where there had at least been friends to support him.

“It is good timing. When Sandy and Tooth get here, I will explain everything. Manny has asked for our help.”

“Hmm,’ Bunnymund murmured. “Well, if Manny needs our help it must be serious.” North nodded in agreement.

“Come, let us go eat! Follow me,” North declared, loud as ever. Bunnymund sighed and followed the larger man out to the cafeteria, resigning himself to several lectures about North’s new machines. It had been a while since they’d met, though, so he figured he could forgive the man this once.

\--- 

The two remaining Guardians arrived at Santoff Claussen the following day. Both North and Bunnymund were there to greet them, despite the late night they’d had; most of it had been spent reminiscing about the days when the Guardians had been at their best, rescuing people and protecting them like true heroes. Although the work they did now was just as important, both of them missed the camaraderie and adrenaline.

Sanderson ManSnoozie arrived just after breakfast had been dished out in the cafeteria. He’d certainly attracted a lot of attention – rather than ground transport he’d flown a small glider in, just barely landing it within the walls of the stronghold. The plane had clearly been modified to run mostly off a solar-powered battery, not just to conserve fuel but also to limit the amount of noise it made so as not to alert any undead to his location.

The short blond man hopped out of the glider cheerfully, discarding his goggles in the cockpit, and made his way over to North and Bunnymund who had begun to approach once they were sure they wouldn’t be run down. He gave both men a hug and received one of North’s spine braking pats on the back.

“Sandy! Welcome to my home. I hope your flight was good?” North asked, a smile on his face as he turned to some of the onlookers. “What are you waiting for? Get the Sandman some drink and cookies! I know we have some,” he assured Sandy, who smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

“Let the man go before you smother him, North,” Bunnymund said, a smile on his face that made it obvious he was teasing. When North stepped back, he added, “It’s good to see ya, Sandy.” The shorter man smiled and made a few quick signs with his hands and Bunnymund laughed in agreement. “I know, feels like no time has passed at all! North’s waiting for all of us to get here before he explains anything, though.”

Sandy nodded his understanding and the three made their way into North’s workshop, chatting and signing to each other while North worked. Phil only interrupted them bringing them some snacks and lunch, until the sky began to get dark and they decided to get some dinner. They’d barely finished their food when they heard the call that another small convoy had arrived, Toothiana with it.

The young woman was fairly buzzing with energy when she stepped out of the truck and rushed over to give all of them quick hugs, smiling brightly. The feathers woven into her hair and her bright clothing stood out amongst the relatively drab colours of Santoff Claussen, and her enthusiasm was catching, all of the Guardians feeling glad to be reunited.

The rest of the convoy parked and began to unload as the light slipped from the sky, so North ushered his friends into his workshop. All four of them grabbed chairs and gathered around North’s laptop; Tooth laughed a little when she saw it, and pulled her own our of her messenger bag, along with an assortment of other tech. It took her no time at all to set up her hub on the bench next to North. Once they were all settled, the atmosphere took on a more serious tone and the Guardians turned to North for his explanation.

“Okay mate, we’re all here. Let’s hear it,” said Bunnymund, a little impatient.

“Yes, it must be serious for you to have called us all back together, North,” Tooth noted with concern. Her brow furrowed a little, and she continued, “Is it to do with Man in the Moon? He’s been really active recently although I still haven’t narrowed down why.”

North laughed, but it didn’t last long. “As expected of our Tooth, your information is good as always!” He sighed. “Man in Moon contacted me several days ago, asking for our help. It is not good news.”

Bunnymund rolled his eyes. “When is it ever good news? The dead are walking the earth, you gumby.” Sandy raised a finger to his lips, asking for quiet before gesturing for North to continue.

“Our mission,” North began, “is to find and rescue this boy, Jack Frost, and any other survivors of a bandit attack on their convoy. Last known location is within Burgess, near the shopping district of the city.” He loaded up the information Manny had sent him on his laptop: diagrams of possible bandit movements, maps of Burgess, a few grainy aerial images of the possible base location, and finally a worn photo of Jack himself, likely taken a few years ago. “Manny says he has important information about the virus. However, this will be a very dangerous mission. Burgess is crawling with undead. He may be dead already, there is no guarantee.”

There was a heavy silence in the workshop once he’d finished speaking, only broken by the furious clacking of a keyboard as Tooth began hunting down any relevant information she could find, a determined scowl on her face. Sandy looked worried and Bunnymund shifted uncomfortably; none of them liked the thought of a child being stranded amidst a horde of zombies and killed in the most painful of ways. They knew only too well the kind of horrors one would see in such a situation; fellow survivors and friends being torn apart, eaten, eventually returning as one of the undead themselves, forcing their friends to kill them.

“Well, I have good news and bad news,” Tooth finally broke the silence, her fingers stilling for a moment as the other Guardians turned their attention to her. “The good news is, I think I can see some evidence that someone is still alive in there. I can’t say for certain that it’s the boy, but anyone in that situation deserves to be rescued. The bad news is that the bandits that attacked the convoy are likely lead by Pitch Black. He’s been recorded as having activity all around the Burgess area. If we have to deal with bandits as well as the Infected…” she trailed off.

As much as the Guardians would try and help those that were in trouble, and as good as they were at killing the undead, killing living, breathing humans was another story altogether. They tried to avoid it as much as possible, but Pitch Black was one of the most feared leaders of the known bandit gangs, being both intelligent and charismatic.

“Ha, all we have to do is avoid them. That’s a big area they’re covering. We just have to time it right, slip right on past them, grab the kid, sneak back out, and Bob’s your uncle.” Bunnymund said with confidence. Sandy nodded, a determined look on his face and his hands signing quickly that whatever the risks, he was willing to accept the challenge. Tooth nodded her agreement and looked at North, who stood from his chair, chest puffed out and tears in his eyes.

“My friends, it is good to fight alongside you again!” North declared. “Of course, together we will succeed. I feel it – in my belly!” He grabbed his stomach as though to prove it.

“So we’re all good to go then?” Bunnymund asked to make certain. “Time is of the essence, right? Head out at first light and all that.”

North, Sandy and Tooth all gave their agreement. Sandy stood and gestured to the door, signing quickly and giving them all a smile as he left.

“Did you catch all that he said?” Tooth asked, having missed some of Sandy’s signs. Bunnymund nodded.

“Yeah, said he was going to get his stuff together and hit the sack. We should all probably do the same.”

“Great!” Boomed North. “I have already asked Phil to get Sleigh ready. At first light we shall depart!” With that he began ushering Bunnymund from the workshop.

“Wait, what? No, no way are we taking that bloody death trap! You can rack right off!” Snapped Bunnymund, gritting his teeth. North’s Sleigh was probably the fastest transport they had, but it was also Bunnymund’s most disliked vehicle. His protests were ignored and he found himself being pushed in the direction of the door.

Tooth smiled at Bunnymund’s familiar complaints, and gave both men a wave. “I’ve got a bit more to do here before I pack up. See you in the morning!”

The workshop door shut behind the two men, and as all four Guardians prepared for the mission ahead, none of them could deny the rush of adrenaline getting back in the action was giving them. And although all of them would like for the mission to run as smooth as possible, we all know that fate never quite works out that way.


	3. Travel Light (Far and Fast)

Dawn broke over Santoff Claussen as the Guardians gathered outside North’s workshop. All of them had packed only the essentials, knowing they would need to move quickly and confident in their ability to find supplies. North stood tall, his thick red overcoat and black boots keeping him warm in the crisp morning air. His backpack was full of weapons and hardware. Two small defence turrets were stacked next to him, and a machete hung by each hip; North was not foolish enough to rely on guns alone.

Sanderson had dressed warmly as well, wrapping a yellow scarf around his neck and wearing his goggles upon his head. His messenger bag bulged with med-packs and bottles of ingredients could be heard clinking together lightly. Held loosely in one hand was his whip. It was an unusual weapon that Sandy had become known for; instead of killing the infected outright, he would simply clear a path for himself and others, using its long reach to keep the undead at a safe distance.

Bunnymund was the one amongst the group who always packed the least; his skills as a tracker and forager meant he could find what he needed, rather than taking it with him. His long fur hide coat was dyed a dull green to blend in with the surroundings, and strapped across his chest was a bandoleer full of small explosives, flares, and supply pouches. Bunnymund also had a variety of weapons scattered about his person: a large knife, a machete, small throwing knives, a pistol. His coat pockets held rations of dried food and a flask at his waist held a day’s supply of water. 

Toothiana was last to arrive, a backpack strapped tightly across her shoulders. Within it she had brought only the most necessary equipment. Her laptop and a satellite hook-up were the most basic, but she’d also brought a satellite phone, a hack tool and a solar-powered charger; she doubted that Burgess had any power and unless they could find a generator she would have to rely on the sun and any pilfered batteries they could find. She had two small semi-automatic pistols and several flares for protection.

Once all of the Guardians had double-checked that they were ready, North led them around the back of the workshop to where Phil was waiting with the Sleigh, all of them ignoring Bunnymund’s usual protests.

The Sleigh was North’s pride and joy, and had been invaluable in travelling around the continent back during the worst of the outbreak. It was a hulking beast of a machine, with a powerful engine, turbine-powered electricity and a deadly outer shell littered with spikes. It looked like a mad cross between an armoured mini-van and a porcupine. Attached to the front was a sturdy bulldozer blade, heavy metal grates covered the windows, and a wide flamethrower nozzle protruded from the back to burn off any pursuers. 

Its name had started out as a joke, when one of the people they’d rescued had said that they’d been so happy to see the vehicle it had been more wondrous than Santa’s sleigh. The sight of it brought as much joy to stranded survivors as Santa Claus ever had. Since then the name had stuck.

Phil approached the Guardians, speaking unintelligibly and gesturing to the Sleigh. It hadn’t been used in a while so Phil had restocked it and checked to make sure it was running well. North, the only one able to understand him, laughed and turned to his friends.

“Phil says that the Sleigh is ready!” North smiled. “It has been too long since last use. I have missed it!”

“That’s bonzer, mate,” Bunnymund sighed in resignation. “How about we just get this over with?” 

The Guardians loaded up quickly after a final check to make sure they were ready. Once they were settled in, North started the Sleigh up, its rumbling engine echoing off the surrounding buildings. The other inhabitants of Santoff Claussen came out to see them off, some shouting out wishes of luck, others demanding that the group come back in one piece. North carefully manoeuvred the large vehicle to the town limits, where Phil hauled open the exterior gates to let them pass, waving them off.

Once they were clear of the town North put his foot down, the Sleigh roaring loudly as they built up speed, and before long they were charging down the road towards their destination. 

“It is good to be out again!” Declared North as Santoff Claussen disappeared from view. Sandy nodded in agreement from his place in the passenger’s seat as he reached forward to turn on the Sleigh’s slightly battered radio, selecting one of the less scratched CDs to listen to.

“Yeah, sure,” said Bunnymund, voice strained, “I just wish you’d put some bloody seatbelts in this thing.” His face went a little green as the armoured van bounced over another hole in the cracked and worn tarmac. “Can you at least try not to hit every pothole?” 

Tooth giggled a little next to him, pulling her laptop out of her bag and setting up her satellite access. “Don’t worry, Bunny. We’ll be there in a few days. Remember when we used to practically live in here?”

Bunnymund shuddered at the thought. “Don’t remind me!”

The other three laughed. Bunnymund scowled and focused on winding down his window as far as it would allow, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. “Oh, laugh it up. We’ll see how funny it is when I chunder over the lot of you.” Sandy turned in his seat, holding out a paper bag with a smirk on his face. He received a scowl for his efforts before Bunnymund turned and pointedly looked out the window, ignoring the lot of them. 

While the group travelled on they began chatting about what they had been doing since they’d last met up and tried to get comfortable in their seats. It was going to be a long journey.

\---

As the sun rose over the empty city of Burgess, Jack Frost began heading for his makeshift home. It was easier and safer to travel the city during the darker hours when he could hide amongst the shadows, but dusk and dawn were the best time for scavenging – dark enough to creep about unnoticed, but with enough light to spot any thing that might be of use.

Jack had once visited Burgess, before the outbreak of the virus. He remembers a city caught between old and new, the shops and the people rushing around as busy as ever, children in the suburbs playing in the street. It had been a city like any other. Now it seemed like a dream.

The Burgess he was in now is far crueller in its reality than his half-forgotten memories. The streets are dirty, filled with trash and forgotten belongings, and there are bloodstains, dark brown and slick black in the night; broken windows for the wind to howl through, barricades to scramble over or shore up. Scraggly weeds burst through the concrete, leaves clog up the drains, and all around the dead roam without destination.

This, Jack supposed, is probably what hell is like. It feels as though he’s been here forever, all alone in a world that seems to have no need for the living. He knows it’s only been a few weeks – less than that since he last saw a human face – but here in Burgess, with the dark grey sky, the dark grey concrete and the shambling, moaning and never-ending horde of undead, time seemed to have lost all meaning.

His latest outing had been as successful as could be expected. Burgess had been abandoned for some time and resources were scarce. Despite that, his backpack was heavy with goods: a few cans of food, including a lucky find of canned frankfurters; some bottled water; a new hammer and a variety of nails from the stockroom of a hardware store; and best of all, some rechargeable batteries and a charger pilfered from an abandoned house. Jack crossed the house off on his map once he’d taken everything useful from it and checked that the coast was clear before snatching his staff up and heading back towards the city centre, folding the map up and stuffing it in the front pocket of his worn blue hoodie.

Once Jack crossed back into the more built-up areas he slowed his pace down, carefully checking each corner and dark alley for any undead. The city was never silent – there were always distant alarms being set off, animals calling out, and the shuffling and groans of the undead – but the quieter areas were always a danger even though he was light on his feet. If there were any of the infected nearby he had to be as quiet as possible because the slightest noise could attract their attention - so at times he would slip off his sneakers and carry them, his bare feet silent on the ground. Jack had learnt to be carful of any debris while sneaking around: he’d already had one incident where he’d cut his bare foot open on some glass and he’d been lucky for it not to get infected. 

The area seemed to be clear, so Jack left his shoes on and looked for a way to clamber up onto the roofs and upper levels of the nearby buildings. He’d slowly gotten better at spotting possible routes and judging his own ability to make them, and quickly spotted a ledge wide enough for him to climb on nearby a half-empty rubbish bin. Jack hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders and hooked his staff through it before taking a short run up, hauling himself up onto the container’s lid and jumping up to catch the ledge, scrambling up as quietly as possible. From there he was able to clamber up onto the roof and continued his route home without returning to ground level.

Above him the sky continued to lighten, so Jack sped up, jogging and leaping from one rooftop to another, climbing up fire escapes to get even higher and not worrying about noise too much – even if the undead did hear him, they rarely looked up. 

It took Jack just over half an hour to reach the building he was currently calling home. It was a storage facility, shorter and smaller than many of the surrounding buildings, only three stories high. When Jack and the other survivors of the raid on their convoy had first arrived they had boarded up the few windows and the few unenforced doors. They’d originally used an underground loading garage to get in and out, but since Jack had been living on his own, he’d locked up and covered that entrance as well. The only way in now was via the stairwell entrance on the roof, and the only way to get to the roof was by jumping across from one of the buildings adjacent to it.

If there was one thing Jack had learned to take advantage of, it was the undead’s lack of manoeuvrability. Even if they chased him to the rooftop, there was no way they could clear the gap to the other roof. 

Jack took a moment to catch his breath a few feet away from the edge of the balcony overlooking his safe house. He shucked off his backpack and threw it over, watching it land safely, followed by his trusted staff. That done, he braced himself and sprinted towards the edge of the balcony, vaulting over it and flying through the air for a breathless moment before landing, dropping into a roll to disperse the momentum. As he stood and headed towards the stairwell, collecting his belongings on the way, Jack couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at the rush of adrenaline. He twirled his staff through the air before shouldering through the unlocked door and heading down into the dark safety of the warehouse. 

He stopped briefly to drop his staff and backpack on the third floor in the corner that he’d designated his ‘bedroom’. It was little more than a thin mattress on the floor with several tatty blankets and a small pillow thrown on top. Scattered nearby were several torches and a couple of books he’d picked up to help him pass the time. A metal office desk was against the wall with an old lamp on it as well as a battered-looking radio transceiver he’d taken off the corpse of a police officer. A notebook and a biro were set next to it, which Jack was using to keep track of and record his days. 

Jack ignored the other empty beds scattered on the floor as he walked past them, dumped his backpack onto his bed and propped his staff against the wall. That done, Jack then pulled out his pistol from its holster; it was a standard nine-millimetre semi automatic that he’d grabbed from the same source as the transceiver. Quickly checking it was loaded, Jack held it tightly and picked up one of the smaller torches. He then left the room, making his way down to the lower floors, checking each room with the torch and gun held at the ready. The thin strips of light that crept through the gaps in the boarded-up windows of the lower floors caught the dust motes floating in the air, giving the empty rooms an eerie atmosphere.

It was only after he’d checked the last room that Jack allowed himself to relax, happy that no infected had managed to break in while he’d been out. He took the stairs back up two at a time, racing over to his bed and snatching up his backpack, rummaging through it and pulling out the handful of batteries he’d managed to find. Quickly grabbing the radio transceiver, he prised open its cover and inserted the batteries.

Hands shaking slightly and trying not to get his hopes up, Jack flicked the switch on the radio and let out a delighted laugh when a red power light came on, a low hiss of static escaping from it. He brought it up to his mouth and held the talk button down.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me?” Jack asked hopefully. He released the talk button and waited for a minute, on edge. When there was no response he tried again. “Is there anyone out there? Please respond!” 

Nothing but static answered him. After several minutes Jack sighed and switched the transceiver off. “Maybe it’s the wrong channel,” he wondered aloud. He set the radio back on the desk and stared at it for a moment more, fighting off his disappointment and deciding to try again later. 

In the meantime, he emptied out the rest of his backpack, sorting out everything and carrying the cans and water down to the second floor, adding them to his supplies stacked out clearly in the empty storage shelves before checking on the small generator and portable gas campfire. Deciding to treat himself, he grabbed a can of beans and the can of frankfurters he’d found earlier, emptying them into a pot over the gas flame. 

Once he’d eaten he quickly brushed his teeth using some collected rainwater and settled down onto his bed, humming to himself as he dragged over a torch and his notepad, writing up the events of the night before lying down and trying to catch a few hours sleep. The transceiver sat on his desk, power on and the faint hum of static filtering through, just in case. 

It had been days since Jack had last spoken to anyone. He could wait a few hours more.


	4. Burgess City

Once Burgess was visible on the horizon, the Guardians began planning their approach. For the past two days they had travelled as fast as they could, stopping for short breaks only when necessary. North, Toothiana and Sanderson had each taken a shift driving to let the others rest as they drove through the night. 

“Tooth, what is situation around Burgess?” North asked, his eyes focused on the road ahead as the Sleigh stormed onwards. Bunnymund sat next to him, letting out the occasional unhappy groan as he tried to fight past his motion sickness to help with the planning.

Tooth paused in her rapid typing and clicking, checking over the data and accessing several satellites in orbit above the area. The grainy pictures were the best they could get, as well as any information from Tooth’s network. “It looks like Pitch was in the area a few days ago, but they’ve moved east towards a few of the border towns. If we approach using the West turnpike we should be able to go unnoticed,” Tooth said decisively.

Sandy quickly signed his own concerns. Bunnymund nodded in agreement. “I think Sandy’s got a point. We can’t drive the Sleigh right on in, we’ll have the hoards on us faster than you can say g’day!” 

“There’s several large overpasses on the outskirts of the city. We should be able to hide the Sleigh under one and go in on foot,” Tooth supplied, accessing several maps and comparing them to the most recent satellite feed of the city. 

North nodded in acquiescence. “Good. Then for the fun part.”

“There’s not too much activity around the outskirts,” Tooth added, eyes flying across the screen, “but there’s been a lot of movement just outside the western shopping district, not too far from the city limits. Bets are that’s where our survivors are.” She frowned, trying to bring up a more detailed, closer image. “Looks like there’s a lot of stragglers on the street. They must have been drawn to the area, but it looks like whatever caught their attention managed to get away.”

Bunnymund hummed in consideration. “Don’t suppose the survivors managed to make a ‘we are here’ sign, then?”

With a shake of her head Tooth rebuked the idea. “It’s the opposite. There’re plenty of signs saying things like that, but most of them are remnants from the initial infection. It’s impossible to tell if any are new from these satellite feeds.”

“So it’s up to us to track them down,” Bunnymund summarised.

North laughed at his tone. “Just like good old days! Right, Bunny?” Sandy smiled at his enthusiasm and signed a few quick words, pointing out that at least they had narrowed the search area down.

“Once we’re in the city I’ll have access to the security network. Having a million little eyes always helps!” Tooth reminded them, a smile breaking across her face as well. “Between the two of us we’ll find them in no time, Bunny.”

The confidence of his teammates made even Bunnymund crack a smile. “Darn straight we will.” 

“Yes!” North cheered, reaching out to clap Bunnymund on the shoulder. “All will be well. We are Guardians. Together we are strong!” The Sleigh swerved wildly at North’s gesturing. 

It only took seconds for Bunnymund’s good mood to vanish. “Eyes on the road, North!” He yelped, hand raised to his mouth as his nausea rose up. North chuckled in response, but returned his attention to the city they were approaching.

“We’re almost there, Bunny,” Tooth tried, giving Bunnymund something to be glad about. “North, when we hit the main road heading into the city, take the third exit. It should take us towards the suburbs and we can take an exit near there to follow the road beneath the overpass.”

“Understood,” the large Russian nodded, tightening his grip on the wheel as the city – and their mission – drew closer.  
\---  
It was late afternoon by the time the Guardians reached Burgess. Following Tooth’s directions, North carefully steered the Sleigh down beneath the overpass. Abandoned cars littered the road. Each time the Sleigh had to push through a blocked section the group would cringe at the screech of metal on metal, keeping a wary eye out for both the infected and any bandits. 

The Sleigh slowed even further once they felt they were near enough to the city proper. It took several minutes before North was able to pull off the road, parking the Sleigh next to one of the overpass’s large concrete supports where some scraggly brush would help hide it. When North cut the engine a tense silence descended as the reminder of the dangers they would soon be facing came back to them all at once.

“Well,” Bunnymund said, breaking the silence, “might as well get a move on. We’ve only got a few more hours of daylight left, best make the most of it.” He grabbed his coat and supplies before stepping out onto the weed-strewn ground, ears straining for any sounds of movement as he quietly shut the door behind him.

One by one the other Guardians followed, making certain they had all their belongings on them before exiting the vehicle, taking their time and being as quiet as possible to avoid attracting any attention. North was the last one out, moving around to gather his things from the back of the Sleigh and locking the vehicle behind him. 

“Are we clear?” North asked in a low voice as he rounded the Sleigh to stand by the others. Outside they could hear the sounds of the undead as they were carried and echoed through the streets. Distant car alarms could be heard going off with no one to silence them. There was a faint smell of decay that tended to linger around all the larger cities, the smell of smoke from untended fires masking it slightly.

“Seems like,” Bunnymund answered. Sandy nodded next to him, clearly centring himself for a moment before he started walking, the others following his lead, weaving between the empty cars. 

By the time the buildings rose around them, the Guardians had fallen into a loose formation, each covering any blind spots. As they slowly crept along the empty streets Tooth pulled out a small palmtop computer to check the map she’d loaded onto it during the journey. It took a few minutes before she was able to get a good connection to check the GPS, but once she had it she waved her hand to signal the others to stop for a moment. The group ducked into an empty alleyway, Bunnymund and North covering both exits and Sandy hovering over Tooth’s shoulder as she updated them on their location.

“Okay, boys,” Tooth said quietly, “there’s a Police Station a few blocks north-east of here. If we take a left at the next intersection and the second right off that, it should be on our left a little way down the road. Understood?” She glanced up at the others to check. Sandy tightened his grip on his whip and nodded. 

Bunnymund backed up towards them. “Gotcha. I’ll take point. North can cover our six.”

North nodded in agreement. “The road ahead is mostly clear. Some undead are further down, maybe five hundred yards past intersection. We must be careful,” he informed them, gesturing them ahead so he could take up the rear with a machete clutched in one hand, his collapsible turrets clutched under his other arm.

The group made their way along the street, ducking behind abandoned vehicles. Ahead of them they could see several undead wandering listlessly. The years had done nothing to help their appearance; the ones that still had theirs had dank, tangled hair, and the scraps of clothing they wore were stained and torn. Their sickly skin was no better, rotten in patches, in some cases torn away entirely. 

The dark brown bloodstains splattered over the creatures and the streets both meant that the undead matched the city around them eerily well.

Keeping low and keeping quiet, the Guardians snuck along the road to the intersection, darting between cover. There was a tense moment when North’s foot struck a half-empty can on the road and sent it skittering along the ground but the undead appeared uninterested in the noise. 

Amongst the litter and debris they passed was the occasional half-eaten corpse. The virus was unable to keep the infected active forever; the rest of the horde then fed upon the bodies of those that eventually succumbed to a second death. 

It was as the Guardians were almost at the turning onto the road they needed that their luck ran out. 

Bunnymund had just ducked alongside another empty car and was about to signal the others to follow him when he heard a breathy groan and felt a bony hand grab him by his ankle. Biting back a curse, Bunnymund automatically grabbed his knife from its holster as he stumbled backwards, dragging the zombie still clutching his ankle out from underneath the car. Its groan turned into a hungry growl as it clawed at him with its free hand, dragging its battered body closer. Without hesitating Bunnymund sliced through its wrist, severing the hand from the rest of its body, and followed up by decapitating its head on his return swing.

Gasping for breath at the surge of adrenaline, Bunnymund jerked his head up at hearing the sounds of other undead quickly approaching, attracted by the noise his brief scuffle had made. The other Guardians had already left their cover and hurried over to him, grabbing him by the arm to jolt him out of his momentary stupor. More undead were approaching from every direction, the ones closest to them speeding up into a stuttering run at the promise of fresh victims. 

North quickly took the lead, barrelling forwards with his machete held at the ready. Several zombies stumbled into his path but were immediately cut down with an accurate strike to their necks. Tooth was right on North’s heels, Sandy and Bunnymund taking up the rear with their weapons held tightly as they headed towards the Police station just ahead of them. Once they reached the steps leading up to the small grey building North waved Tooth and Sandy on ahead to the entrance, standing alongside Bunnymund to keep the infected from approaching.

The station looked to have been an old concrete building later repurposed for its use. From the outside it had clearly taken some damage, either from the infected or from the rioting of the terrified populace during the initial outbreak. Scorch marks littered the front facing, several of the reinforced windows bearing large spidery cracks and chunks of brick and mortar had been knocked out to litter the ground. The metal double doors that allowed entry into the building were set back into the building behind a set of grated roll-down shutters that had a few dents in them.

Sandy reached the entrance first and grabbed his bump key out of his pocket, slipping a hand through the shutters and trying the door handles first to make sure the building was not already unlocked. At the resistance he quickly slotted his key into the lock and with a quick knock of his fist bumped the lock open. That done, he pulled back and nodded at Tooth and the two bent down together to heft the shutters up slightly, giving just enough room for Sandy to slip underneath. Pushing open the station’s doors he glanced around to make sure there was no immediate threat inside and identified the lock switch for the shutters. There was no power left to raise the shutters, but with the lock disengaged they were much easier to lift, and he waved at Tooth, signing to her that they were clear. 

Upon seeing Sandy’s signs, Tooth turned to the other two Guardians. North and Bunnymund stood firm at the bottom of the steps, several unmoving bodies at their feet. “Guys, it’s open! Let’s go!” Tooth quickly called out to them upon seeing more undead approaching. Both men turned and raced up the stairs at her words, hoisting up the shutters to get all three of them through and into the building before letting the metal grating clatter shut behind them, trapping the undead outside. 

Closing the metal doors and shutting out the sounds of the undead still gathering outside, the Guardians caught their breath momentarily. It had been their first skirmish with the infected for quite a while. 

“Ha, still got it,” North said, looking at Bunnymund, who had dragged a rag out of one of his pockets to clean his knife. 

“Barely even a warm up, mate,” Bunnymund replied, cracking a smile. Sandy made a show of dusting off his hands and cracking his knuckles, causing the others to laugh lightly. Their moment of humour was interrupted by the sound of the shutters rattling, letting them know that while the momentary danger had passed they couldn’t let down their guard.

“It says that city security and surveillance are on the next floor up,” Tooth said, inspecting a basic floor map of the building mounted on the wall near what had once been the reception desk. “A building like this should have some kind of back-up power supply, too. We should probably find that first.”

Sandy nudged North and made a few quick signs, indicating that they should split up. North frowned but then nodded at Sandy’s insistent gestures. “Bunny, you and Sandy go find generators,” he directed. “Tooth and I will find security room.”

Bunnymund rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Who made you boss?” He meant it good-naturedly; he and the others all knew that he probably had the most experience in fixing power supplies due to his work at the Warren. “C’mon Sandy. Chances are it’ll be down in the basement.” The two started off down the corridor, their height difference making Tooth giggle under her breath. Bunnymund looked back at the sound and smiled confidently. “No worries, Tooth. We’ll get her all fixed up in no time.”

Tooth smiled and nodded, waving them off. “I’ll go get set up. See you both in a bit!” She then turned to look up at North. “Shall we?” 

That said, the group split up, moving carefully along and checking each room as they went to make sure it was all clear and there were no undead lurking to surprise them later. Tooth and North headed up the stairs to the next floor and made a beeline for the main surveillance room. It took them only a few minutes to find it, the door standing slightly ajar. 

Approaching it slowly and pushing it open with his foot, North peered into the dark room. Unable to see anything or hear anything too suspicious, he opened the door the rest of the way, letting Tooth slip past him. North looked around and spotted an empty bin, which he used to prop the door open to let in some light from the corridor, standing just outside and keeping his eyes peeled for any movement. He dropped his heavy pack and machines just inside the room, keeping hold of one of his machetes just in case. Tooth was already rummaging in her backpack for a torch.

With a bit of light to see by, Tooth looked around the room, noting the monitors and desktop station sat gathering dust. Attaching her torch to a lanyard to keep her hands free she followed the wiring back to the hard-line that they stemmed from. After giving the setup a thorough look-over, Tooth set her backpack down on the lone chair in the room and began pulling out her equipment, including a small roll of tools and a box of her own special transmitters.

“How is it?” North asked from the doorway.

“Looking good, nothing seems to be damaged,” Tooth answered, “although it’ll be easier to set up once Bunny and Sandy get the generators up and working again.” Her transmitters had a small battery to run off in an emergency, but she needed the power online to check which cameras were still working. Most of them had backup supplies but enough time had passed that many would have died, and Tooth didn’t want to waste effort setting up transmitters on dead lines.

Tooth crossed her legs and sat on the floor, her equipment spread out around her within easy reach. Using the light of her torch she quickly assembled a handful of transmitters and powered up her laptop in preparation to check that they were working ok. It didn’t take long for her to become absorbed in her work.

Meanwhile, Bunnymund and Sandy had made their way through the station to the stairwell that led to the basement. They’d passed a few trashed rooms, but it looked more like a panicked mess rather than a struggle. A couple of rooms - particularly the kitchen – smelt putrid, but it seemed to be caused by rotten food rather than rotten corpses. 

The stairs disappeared into the darkness of the basement. Bunnymund wasn’t certain if the smell of decay was coming from ahead or just lingering from the kitchen nearby; it was possible that there might have been some food stored downstairs, but he had a bad feeling nonetheless.

“I dunno, Sandy,” Bunnymund said to his silent companion. “No sign of the creeps around, but I have a bad feeling.” At Sandy’s considering look, he added, “‘In my belly’, as North’d say.” Bunnymund sheathed his knife and pulled out his larger machete instead, before grabbing a small torch from its slot in his bandoleer and clicking it on.

The small beam of light barely seemed to pierce the looming dark ahead of them. Sandy pulled on his goggles and clicked the switch on the side of them to activate their night vision. He held his whip tightly and gave Bunnymund a thumbs up to show he was ready.  
“Right-o, mate,” Bunnymund muttered, leading the way down the steps. Once they hit the basement floor, Bunnymund flicked his torchlight around, looking over the piles of boxes and metal shelves stacked with files and the odd bit of equipment. The light of the torch made the shadows seem even darker as the two proceeded further into the room.

It was Bunnymund who spotted the generator first. The machine was relatively small and partially covered with a dustsheet. Bunnymund hurried over to it to give it a once over, not noticing Sandy freeze behind him and frantically wave his arms to try and get Bunnymund’s attention. It was only the crack of Sandy’s whip lashing out that caused Bunnymund to turn, eyes immediately landing on the zombie only feet away from him, caught and thrashing but held tight in Sandy’s whip. As the creature snarled at them Bunnymund glanced quickly back at Sandy; even with the goggles obscuring his eyes it was clear that his shorter friend was not happy, so Bunnymund quickly moved to kill the undead creature. 

One decapitation later Bunnymund looked over at his friend. “Thanks, Sandy. I must be off my game today.” Sandy gave him a look that implied that Bunnymund should get his act together. It only took one bite to become infected and he had been far too close just then. Bunnymund crouched to get a better look at the corpse, noting its worn police outfit. “Poor sod must’ve been infected and stumbled down here before he kicked the bucket.”

The two of them quickly checked the rest of the room, making certain that there were no other infected lurking in the corners. Bunnymund had had enough close calls to last him a lifetime. Once they were sure the room was clear the two gathered around the generator, Bunnymund inspecting it for any faults. He quickly checked the oil level using his spare rag and made sure the exhaust was intact and funnelled to an outside vent.

“Looks like it’s outta juice,” Bunnymund concluded. “Sandy, give me a hand a have a look-see round, see if you can spot any petrol cans knocking about.” It took them a couple of minutes before Sandy triumphantly hefted a jerry can full of gasoline over to the generator. 

“All we’ve got to do is fill her up, give her a kick start and then she’ll be apples,” Bunnymund said as he began to carefully pour in the gasoline, trying hard not to waste any. In the low light from the torch it was hard to tell when the generator was full, but eventually Bunnymund pulled away and closed up the lid. “Here goes,” he said with a glance at Sandy, pulling out the choke and grabbing the start cord. It took a few tries, each time worrying them both even more, but eventually the motor started and caught, chugging away. “Gotcha! You little beauty!” Bunnymund said delightedly.

Dim lights flickered on overhead. Bunnymund and Sandy grinned at each other in achievement and Bunnymund gave the generator a last once over in the light before the two of them began heading upstairs to join Tooth and North, turning off the lights behind them.

The generator coming on was immediately apparent upstairs as well. With a dim sound of static and a low hum, the surveillance room filled with the small red standby lights that indicated the power was back on. Tooth smiled and turned to North in excitement.

“North, power’s back on! Please hit the lights for me?” Tooth asked, standing up and switching on the main desktop unit before clicking off her torch. Most of the monitors hummed into life as the computer slowly began booting up after a long period of inactivity. Tooth made space next to it to set up her laptop while she waited for the system to load.

North switched the room’s lights on, allowing Tooth to see what she was doing much better. A few moments later he smiled at Bunnymund and Sandy as they arrived, but a worried frown graced his face once he noticed the congealed blood on Bunnymund’s blade. “Is everything well?” North asked, concerned. Sandy gave him a lopsided grin and shrugged. 

Bunnymund shared a glance with Sandy before turning to North. “We’re fine. Ran into what used to be an officer, but we handled it,” he assured. North looked the two over with a disbelieving hum, but decided to let go of his curiosity. 

“Tooth is setting up now that power is back on,” North told the other two, gesturing to the open door of the surveillance room. Inside, Tooth had already hacked into the Police station’s system and accessed the security cameras, bringing them up on the monitors. 

Noticing the others looking, Tooth turned and smiled at them. “Looks like quite a few of the remote cameras are still working. About fifteen total, most of those covering the shopping district. Take a look,” she said, cycling through the different views. “I might be able to get a couple more online as we go. Once I’ve got the transmitters set up we should be good to go, but if you don’t mind waiting a while I might be able to get a better idea of where to start looking for our survivors,” she added hopefully.

The other Guardians looked at each other, then back at her. “Sure, Tooth,” Bunnymund nodded, “take as long as you need. We’ve got this covered,” he indicated to the clear corridor as the others settled in to wait.

Tooth smiled and ducked underneath the console, grabbing a pair of wire strippers as she went, her small transmitters dotted around her, ready to be spliced in to the camera feeds so that Tooth could access them from any nearby location using her laptop. Once she was done they could head off to try and find a more secure base and hopefully get a lead on their survivors, and their mission would be properly underway. 

Outside the sun began falling, and the undead continued to roam, loosing interest in the blocked entrance of the Police station, stumbling away to try elsewhere. The stars had just begun appearing in the sky when Jack Frost made his way onto the roof of his safe house, leaping the gap to a nearby building to begin another night of scavenging, unaware of the security camera hidden nearby catching his movement at the edge of its vision.


	5. It was Dark, It was Cold (and I was Scared)

Chapter 4 – It was Dark, It was Cold (and I was scared)

Three Weeks Ago

A small convoy of vehicles made its way across the long empty stretches of road. Their destination was a secure base on the other side of the continent, a place that could offer safety and supplies for those who had yet to settle in one of the small towns clear of the undead. One of the trucks carried supplies and was being protected by several soldiers. 

Travelling with them was a group of civilians, as much as anyone could be counted a civilian those days – all of them had fought against and survived attacks by the infected masses at some point or another. Amongst them was Jack Frost, trying not to draw any more attention to himself than his white hair and age already had. The group had introduced themselves and made small talk, but over the days of travelling it had petered out slightly. Jack had found himself either sleeping or hanging around the soldiers to get away from the boredom however momentarily.

So far the convoy had passed a few small towns and a few vehicles going in the other direction. They’d stopped to trade goods and information including a warning about bandits lurking around Burgess City where they preyed on any unsuspecting travellers. Despite being less than an hour out from the city limits the convoy had yet to see any sign of either bandits or undead.

The attack caught them all by surprise. The bandits approached from the west just before dusk, letting the low sun hide their approach. Motorcycles and pick-up trucks swarmed around the convoy, forcing them to slow down, the sound of gunfire splitting the air as they fired upon the drivers. The soldiers scrabbled for their weapons and returned fire as best they could, but they were outnumbered and caught off guard; within moments two had been shot dead and the others began firing blindly.

Jack had dropped at the first sound of trouble and tucked himself against the floor of the van he’d been riding in, several other passengers doing the same. Gunfire punched holes into the metal above his head, and the soldier that had been riding shotgun swore as bullets pierced the windshield and struck the driver. The van swerved wildly and Jack raised his arms to protect his face as shattered glass rained down on them. One of the other passengers screamed in fear.

The hoots and hollering of the bandits that crowded around the convoy drowned out the sounds of the soldier struggling in front. Over the gunfire and terrified screams and shouts from the other vehicles Jack could make out the sound of a door being opened, and he glanced through the gap in the seats in time to see the soldier shove the dead body of the driver out through the drivers-side door before seating himself in front of the wheel, keeping low to avoid a similar fate. 

It took a few heart-stopping moments for the soldier to regain control of the vehicle, the door slamming shut when it hit one of the bandits that had been driving alongside them. The soldier slammed his foot on the accelerator and the van lurched forward, slowly gaining speed. There were several thuds and the vehicle shuddered as it ran over something. It took Jack a moment for his stunned brain to realise that they’d probably just knocked down and run over several bandits.

The soldier didn’t pause, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The sound of revving and other vehicles roaring behind them told Jack that the bandits weren’t giving up so easily, and he bravely lifted his head enough to glance out the back window and see a small gang pursuing them. Further back he could see flames from one of the other vehicles of their convoy, silhouettes darting around it like moths drawn to the light.

A few motorcycles and an intimidating armoured truck were still following the escapees. Jack watched, wide-eyed, as a dark black car roared past the bandit’s vehicles and began to quickly catch up with the van. Jack barely caught a glimpse of the horse insignia and the dark-clad driver before he was forced to duck as more gunshots were fired at the van, startling another shriek from one of the women ducked down next to him. The soldier glanced back and swore again, groping about with one hand until he found his gun and held it behind him.

“Shit! Return fire! Grab the fucking gun and shoot!” The soldier hollered, van swerving across the road to prevent the black car from overtaking. An older man crouched behind his seat grabbed the gun, glanced out the broken back window and began to fire. His hands were shaking and most of his shots missed, but the black mustang was forced to back off slightly. 

The pursuit continued until they reached the edge of the nearby city. Even as the bandits slowed and fell back the van continued barrelling down the road, slowing slightly and jerking about as they crashed by a few scattered cars. 

“Slow down! They’re not following!” One of the women yelled, her face white with fear. The soldier began to slow and looked into the shattered remains of the rear-view mirror to check that they were safe; and it was at that moment that their luck ran out. 

With a shriek of metal, the van hit a concrete bollard and flipped over, rolling over onto its side until it skidded to a stop. Smoke billowed out of the engine. 

Everyone inside made sounds of pain and shock. Jack had been knocked loose from his spot in the foot well. He shakily sat up with a pained groan, clutching his head where he could already feel a lump forming. His body was littered with small cuts from the broken glass but he didn’t seem to have any serious injuries. 

The same could not be said of the others. In the front seat the soldier was unmoving, trapped between the steering wheel and the seat when the front of the van had crumpled in. The older couple looked beaten up, one of them with blood beginning to pour down the side of his face, and the red-haired young woman who’d been screaming lay limp, one of her legs twisted at an odd angle.

Jack’s ears were ringing and his head felt heavy, but he dragged himself over to the injured couple and shook them to see if they were awake. The woman jerked up, eyes darting around wildly before landing on the man next to her, and she shook him roughly.

“Bill! Wake up! Bill!” The woman gasped out. It took a minute but eventually the man gasped and regained consciousness, limbs flailing briefly until his eyes settled on the woman as she cradled his head, tears streaming down her face.

“Sue,” Bill slurred, “It’s okay, darlin’.” He sounded as though he could fall back into unconsciousness at any moment, but Jack had heard something else that caught his attention, and he turned to try and see out of the shattered windshield.

In the growing dark Jack could just make out something moving closer, its motion jerky and slow. He struggled to think through his pounding headache. There was something about the cities, about why they were dangerous… Jack’s heart leapt into his throat as the shape stumbled closer into view.

It was a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire. Around them the undead drew closer. The noise of the crash was drawing them in and Jack could see more gathering. Suddenly the crash was the least of his worries and he turned to the others in the destroyed wreckage of the van.

“The infected are coming! We’ve got to hurry!” Jack whispered furiously. The couple stared at him for a moment before comprehension dawned on their faces and they struggled to get up. Jack scrambled over to the other woman and shook her hard, not caring for her injuries in his haste. “Wake up! C’mon! Wake up!” Jack snapped under his breath. It seemed to take forever for her to wake up, but once she had Jack waved the couple over. “Help her up, I’m going to see if that guy’s okay!” He said, already moving to try and yank the soldier out of his trapped position. 

Around them the hungry groans and shrieks of the undead grew closer. Jack pulled hard at the steering wheel, and although it gave a little he was unable to free the soldier. Gritting his teeth, Jack pulled hard, just as the man – Bill – limped over to help, grabbing the soldier and hauling him free. 

Bill slapped the soldier awake and the man came to, looking far more aware than the others had. The soldier looked up at Bill and Jack but his eyes went to something over their shoulders. Before the soldier had time to cry out a warning, a gunshot split the air, and the zombie behind them collapsed backwards with its brains blown out. 

A shaky Sue stood nearby, with the redheaded woman up and leaning on her for balance. In Sue’s hands the gun was perfectly steady, although her grip faltered a little as the two women stumbled over. 

“Let’s go,” Bill muttered urgently and gestured them all through the broken remains of the rear window. The small group escaped the torn up remains of the van and found themselves surrounded by a growing horde of undead. The soldier seemed to have shaken off the worst of his concussion and was able to stand on his own, taking the gun from Sue and holding it at the ready. Bill reached out and wrapped one of the redhead’s arms over his shoulders to help her walk. 

“We’re going to have to break through ‘em,” the soldier said, his voice shaking slightly although his hold on the weapon was steady and sure. “See if you can find something to use as a weapon, anything at all,” he continued, his voice calming slightly as his training kicked in.

The other four quickly cast through the wreckage to see if they could spot anything of use. Luckily a few scraps of metal that had been torn off were small enough to wield as basic weapons. Jack managed to find a piece of twisted metal pipe half-buried under the rubble their crash had torn up and he hefted it in his hands, read to swing it like a baseball bat. 

As soon as all of them had something to hand – including the redhead, although she was clearly in a lot of pain from her broken leg – the small group began to move, heading for a narrow gap in the approaching crowd of undead. Several of the infected noticed them and with hungry snarls rushed towards the group, arms reaching out to claw at them, but they were able to beat them back.

It seemed to take a lifetime but eventually the group broke through and, fighting back the few undead that were still approaching, the five survivors moved down the street as quick as they were able. Past torn-up buildings and boarded up houses they fled, all of them trying to spot a possible safe place to hide. It wasn’t until they’d reached the edge of what looked like a small but ransacked shopping district that Bill noticed a good location.

“Over there,” Bill said lowly so as to avoid attracting more attention, “That old, boarded-up building.” He gestured to the run down building just ahead, and the others gave it a quick glance before making a split second decision when they noticed another pack of undead lurking nearby.

“Good enough,” the soldier said decisively. As one the group headed towards the building, and Jack noted the cracked and worn sign declaring ‘Big Yellow Storage’. Some of the letters were so worn they were almost unreadable. 

The small group ducked through a gap in the chain fence surrounding the building and made their way to one of the side doors. The soldier tried the handle but the door was locked; however, over the years it had rusted badly and with a solid kick the soldier broke it open. Once they were inside the group squinted through the gloom and began making their way further into the building. 

Metal storage racks were arranged in long rows and cast eerie shadows over them. Most of the windows at ground level were boarded up, but a few thin glass panels set higher up the walls let the low red light of the sunset slip in, giving the survivors just enough light to see by. Eventually they came to a small stairwell. The building had no power so the large industrial elevators were useless. 

As the adrenaline faded the pain from their recent injuries began to set in, and the redheaded woman passed out, going limp against Bill who struggled with the dead weight before lowering her and propping her up on the concrete steps of the stairwell. Jack watched with worry, noticing the woman’s sweat-lined brow and shallow breathing.

The soldier frowned in concern. “We need to make sure the rest of the building is clear and get her upstairs if possible,” he said. With a jerk of his head the soldier indicated to Bill. “You come with me, we’ll go check out upstairs. Kid,” he continued, looking at Jack, “you stay here with the girls. Shout if you spot anything.”

Jack nodded his agreement, looking over at where Sue was crouched next to the injured redhead and tightening his grip on his improvised weapon. He watched as the soldier and Bill disappeared up the steps. A tense silence fell as they waited, broken only by the pained cries and whimpers of the redhead, unable to escape the pain even in unconsciousness.

For several long minutes the three sat together, the light gradually dimming as the sun made its final descent. Jack leant against the wall, eyes and ears straining to pick up any sign of movement. His whole body ached fiercely and his head throbbed in time with his heartbeat but he couldn’t let himself relax.

When the two men returned Jack let out a sigh of relief. Sue struggled back to her feet and gave Bill a quick hug. The soldier bent down and with a bit of a struggle hoisted the redheaded woman over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“It’s all clear,” the soldier informed them, turning and beginning to make his way up the stairs. Jack quickly moved to follow, Sue and Bill behind him.

“We managed to find a few old mattresses in the storage bays on the third floor, thought we’d set up there. See what we can see in the morning,” Bill said as they ascended. 

“Won’t that be too hard for Mary?” Sue asked quietly. Jack made a note of the name, wondering the same thing – but with Mary’s broken leg it was unlikely she’d be going anywhere even if they made their base on the ground floor. Bill just shook his head.

The upper floors had a few unbarred windows but the sun had finally set, casting everything into a deep gloom. Once they’d laid them out the five survivors fairly collapsed onto the thin mattresses. Mary was lowered as gently as possible onto a mattress, but the pain still brought her back to consciousness. Jack and Bill were ordered off to try and find some wood to splint her leg with, and Jack heard the muffled scream that indicated the other two had tried to set it back in place. When he and Bill returned with a strip of plastic, some thin wooden boards and some duct tape, Mary’s face was sickly white and sweaty. Sue looked almost traumatised herself. 

Jack sat and watched as Sue and the soldier splinted Mary’s leg as best they could with what was available. The soldier had a small penlight on a key-ring attached to his uniform which was giving them just enough light to see by. Eventually they were done, and moved to sit back on their own mattresses.

A bone-deep weariness filled them, the events of the day catching up. Despite their tiredness they were unable to sleep. Every time they closed their eyes their minds brought up images of bandits and undead hordes.

Eventually the soldier sighed and broke the silence. “It’s been nice escaping with you all. I’m Lieutenant Olman Winters.”

Jack laughed before he could stop himself, although it came out a little shakier than he’d hoped. “Old man Winters?” The soldier – Lieutenant Winters – gave an annoyed sigh at Jack’s comment, having clearly heard the joke many times before.

“It’s Olman.” As the other survivors chuckled Lieutenant Winters rolled his eyes. “What’s your name then, kid?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m Jack Frost. And I’m hardly a kid. I’m almost seventeen.” 

The redhead, Mary, gave a pained laugh at his words. “That still means you’re a kid, Jack,” she said with a bit of a gasp. “I’m Mary Wilson, though Sue and Bill already know that.” It was only now that Jack noticed she had an accent. It was a little faint – she’d clearly been living in America for some time – but Jack thought she sounded Irish. Before he could ask, the couple spoke up from where they’d shoved their two mattresses together.

“I’m Bill Pecos, and this is my wife, Sue,” Bill said. 

“Wish it was under better circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you all,” Sue added. 

“Thanks, everyone,” Mary spoke softly, “you could have left me there, but you didn’t. So…thanks.” Her breathing was still laboured, but she was dealing with the pain of her broken leg remarkably well. Jack could just about see her face silhouetted in the dark and thought he could make out tears running down her cheeks, but he didn’t mention it. 

“We’re gonna have to stick together to survive,” Lieutenant Winters said. “And we’re going to have to try and find some supplies tomorrow. For now let’s all try and get some rest.” The others made noises of agreement and tried to get comfortable enough to drop off.

“Night, guys,” Jack said into the quiet. 

“Night, Jack. See you in the morning,” the others responded in hushed voices. The silence fell once more, but Jack could just about hear the sounds of the undead shuffling in the city around them. It took all of them a long time before sleep finally claimed them.

\---

By the time the morning came around, Jack had managed to get a few hours of sleep between bouts of wakefulness. His whole body ached and felt twice as heavy as usual, but the sound of furious whispering nearby made him struggle up and open his eyes.

The sight that greeted him made Jack immediately come awake. Bill, Sue and Lieutenant Winters were all gathered around Mary’s bed, talking in hushed whispers but clearly distressed. Worried, Jack got to his feet and headed over.

“What’s up?” He asked in concern. The others turned to look at him, and by the looks on their faces Jack known something must be wrong. “Is Mary okay?” 

Bill sighed. “She’s dead, Jack. Must’ve happened in the night.” His eyes were sad. 

Lieutenant Winters carefully lifted Mary’s green silk shirt up enough to reveal her stomach. It was heavily discoloured, purples and blues replacing a normal skin tone. The colour was in sharp contrast to her white face. 

“Looks like internal bleeding,” Lieutenant Winters stated the obvious. He moved one of her arms, testing its rigidity. “Probably died only a few hours ago.” 

“I can’t believe we didn’t notice,” Sue said, in shock. Bill gathered her into a hug. 

Winters sighed. “We’d best move her, find someplace to leave her. Shame we can’t bury her, but we can at least try to keep her away from the infected.” He glanced over at the other three. “Bill, give me a hand with her. Jack and Sue, you two see if you can find anything useful in this building. Best to know what we need before we head out.”

Jack nodded, already running a list in his head of what things to look out for. Everyone who had survived the initial infection and had struggled through the time afterwards had a good idea of the basic necessities. In the light of day it would be much easier to spot any possible supplies. 

Sue gestured to him, and together they headed deeper into the building after a last look at Mary’s body. The small group had set up in a corner of the building, and the floor they were on had several rows of large lockers against the far wall, each fitted with a combination lock. Another wall was taken up by storage bays with rolling shutters, one of which was left half open, with more mattresses inside. The rest of the room had several thin walls which split the space into different areas: one had moth-eaten chairs scattered around a rickety table; another was full of old, half broken-down cardboard boxes; and the section they had settled in looked as though it might have once been an office-type area, with a few metal desks and filing cabinets. 

Jack followed Sue over to the shutters and looked them over while Sue checked the open one. Several had padlocks locking them shut, but Jack tried the others and looked inside. One of them had boxes all stacked on shelves, archiving information that probably went years back. There was another that had a few scattered parts in it, some half-removed from their packaging, and Jack guessed they might have been replacements for computers or machinery. Unfortunately neither he nor Sue found anything there of use and turned to examine the lockers.

The lockers were probably for staff members Jack thought as he tested a few of the handles. A couple swung open but were empty. Jack was tempted to try putting his ear to one and trying to figure out the combination like he’d seen in movies back before the virus, but decided it could wait until later as there were plenty of other rooms to search.

With the third floor checked, Jack and Sue headed down to the second floor, which was full of rows of metal shelving. Most of it was empty but the two of them split up and began walking down the aisles, checking any boxes and plastic bins they came upon. Jack grinned when he pulled out one box and opened it to find it packed with torches, all still in their plastic packaging.

“Hey, Sue! I found some torches!” Jack called out; Sue walked over and they pulled some of the torches out. “Guess we’ll need some scissors first, huh.” he added, knowing how hard the plastic wrap was to open. 

“And batteries,” Sue said, looking at the back of the packaging, “since it says they aren’t included.”

Jack gave a frustrated sigh. “I think I saw some scissors upstairs with the office supplies, but batteries?” He left the box out and open so it would be easy to find and collect after they’d finished checking the rest of the room.

“We’ll carry on looking. Give me another shout if you find anything!” Sue said, walking back to where she had been checking. Jack nodded and continued down his row, but in the end they had checked all the shelves and found little else, although Sue had managed to find a few loose batteries for the torches. Jack had also found a heavy worn-looking hammer and several bags of nails a few inches long which he thought could be useful to fix up some of the boarded-up windows on the first floor.

There was a small room tucked into the corner of the second floor, which Sue had tried to open and found was locked. She was about to turn and leave it when Jack smirked at her, then gave the door a forceful kick near the handle. The flimsy door cracked loudly, and with another kick it broke apart, allowing the two of them inside. It was dark, and the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling was useless without power, but with the light from the main room trickling in they were able to look around the small room.

Jack and Sue were delighted to find a small generator packed into the corner, with a jerry can sat next to it, half hidden behind a collection of mops and brooms. There were also two clear plastic drums – the kind used for water coolers – and both of them were full of water. A set of keys were lying on one shelf, and next to them was a medical kit, in a square metal box with a red cross on the cover. Sue pulled out the generator and looked it over, but the fuel gauge said it was out of fuel, and when she lifted the jerry can she realised that was empty as well. 

On the shelf above the generator was a box filled with cheap plastic cups. The two were both desperately thirsty and quickly opened one of the plastic drums, carefully tipping out the water and drinking it with relish. Once they’d had several cups worth they closed the lid and left the room, just in time to bump into Lieutenant Winters and Bill who were on their way back up.

“Find anything?” Lieutenant Winters asked as soon as he saw them. Jack and Sue both nodded.

“We found some water containers and a generator,” Jack said eagerly, “but the generator is out of gas.” He gestured the two men into the room, where they gladly poured themselves some water to drink. 

“Jack also found some torches and I’ve found a few batteries that should fit them,” said Sue. “There are some keys here too, but we’ll have to try them out to see where they go.”

Lieutenant Winters leaned against the wall of the small room and drank from his cup of water a little slower once his thirst was quenched. “I think I might know. Bill and I had a look around the bottom floor after we…” he trailed off awkwardly, seeing their downcast expressions at the reminder of Mary’s death. “…Anyway, there’s a loading entrance at the back of the building with large rolling shutters and a locked metal door next to them. The keys might be for that. Did you find anything else?”

“I found a hammer and some nails.”

Bill nodded, pleased. “While we were down there we noticed some of the boards ’ve come away, and there’s another entrance that could use boarding up.” 

“Is there some wood we can use? Sue and I didn’t find any here,” Jack asked.

“There’s some wooden pallets and a few big wooden transport boxes we can break down and use,” Lieutenant Winters assured. “Getting some fuel for the generator is the big problem. And, of course, coming up with a plan to get out of the city.”

Sue looked worried at that. “What about the bandits? Do you think they’ll still be nearby?” 

“Not for very long. It’s too risky, they’ll probably expect the infected to finish us off.” At Sue’s upset face and Bill’s sharp glance, Lieutenant Winters quickly added, “Not that I’ll let that happen. If we stick together, we’ll be fine.”

Jack picked at the tears in his clothing, barely glancing at the cuts and scrapes underneath which had already scabbed over. “If we’re going out, we could do with some better clothes. All of ours got pretty torn up yesterday and it’s pretty cold out.” The others nodded their agreement.

“Some better weapons would be good too. We’ll get everything sorted out upstairs, clean any cuts we have, and then head out. Agreed?” Lieutenant Winters gave orders out as though they were soldiers under his command, but at last minute seemed to remember that they were, technically, civilians. Even so, Jack, Sue and Bill all nodded determinedly; all of them were aware that they were in what amounted to enemy territory.

\---

Once they were all ready with makeshift weapons in hand the four survivors headed out. Lieutenant Winters had been correct in his assumption about the keys, and they were able to slip out of the metal door at the back of the building, moving slowly and checking that it was all clear.

Burgess city in daylight was no better than Burgess city at night, except that the rot and decay was more visible. In the cool air hung the ever-present scent of death. Jack gripped his piece of pipe tightly as the four moved as quietly as possible down the nearby street, checking the cars and shops for possible supplies. Bill carried an empty plastic container that had been lying around on the lower floor of their storage building; on the way back they had plans to siphon fuel from some of the abandoned vehicles. 

They weren’t far from a small shopping district. Most of the frontages carried signs of the panic during the initial breakout: windows were cracked and doors were broken in; fire damage distorted plastic logos; goods were scattered out into the street. The years of abandonment had taken their toll as well, weeds growing up through cracks in the concrete to ensnare deflated tyres and rusted signposts. 

After a short while they spotted a small clothing store that seemed to have escaped mostly unscathed – the window was covered in cracks but seemed to have held, protecting the things inside from the elements – although on entry it looked as though it had been ransacked. The clothing that was left, some of it half falling from hangers, was dusty and had signs of damp; but before the others could give up on finding anything of use, Jack checked out the back of the shop and noticed a few boxes with clothes still sealed in their plastic packaging.

“Guys, come check this out! Looks like we might be able to find some stuff after all!” Jack called out to the other three, rummaging through some of the boxes until he plucked out a blue hoodie, still sealed. When he tore it open it smelt a little musty but was otherwise okay. Eagerly pulling off his ruined top, Jack pulled on a plain long-sleeved top from one box – it was too large, but that hardly seemed to matter – and covered it with the blue hoodie, delighted at how warm it was.

The others quickly followed his example, all of them opening boxes and pulling out clothes, just as eager as Jack to be out of their sweaty, grimy clothing. Each of them layered up to protect against the cold but also to minimise the chance of being bitten if the infected got too close. 

“Well, we certainly smell better, even if we’re hardly model material,” Sue said lightly once they were all set to go out again. 

Lieutenant Winters stood at the entrance to the shop, checking left and right for any signs of the undead. “There’s a few shamblers up ahead we’ll need to keep an eye on,” he said to the other three as they gathered behind him, “but I think there’s a hardware store there too, so it might be worth the risk.” 

Jack shifted his grip on the twisted piece of pipe he’d been hanging on to. A hardware store meant a possible source of better weapons, something that all of them would welcome. Even Lieutenant Winters felt the need for a melee weapon because his gun, while great for killing the undead, had limited ammunition and would make too much noise, drawing more attention their way. 

“I’ll cover our backs,” Bill volunteered, and the four of them began moving once again. Jack tensed at being back outside – for a moment, inside the shop, it had felt almost like old times, rummaging through piles of clothing during shop sales – but amongst the obvious signs of the outbreak reality hit him once more.

The store they were approaching had once been a hardware store and it showed; the windows had protective grating behind them and the door was a sturdy piece of solid wood with a small, reinforced glass window. Unlike most of the other shops in the area it looked as though it hadn’t been ransacked. Jack watched as Bill gave the door a hard tug but it was clearly locked as it didn’t move an inch. 

“Maybe there’s a back entrance?” Jack suggested, keeping his voice low. Several undead were loitering nearby and he didn’t want to alert them. 

“Might as well see,” Lieutenant Winters agreed. Unfortunately, the hardware store was part of a long line of shops, and they would have to get to the end of the street – past the undead shuffling about nearby – and then hopefully down a back alley. “Stay close, everyone. Move slow.” His words were unnecessary: Jack, Sue and Bill were moving just as quietly and carefully as he was.

However, luck wasn’t with them and one of the undead perked up, its movements becoming more purposeful as it headed in their direction. Jack shuddered as it approached. No matter how many times he’d seen them, the infected were the stuff of nightmares. The one approaching them might once have been a shopkeeper, or a woman out visiting the shops, but now what little of its face still remained intact was twisted with hunger. Only one eye seemed to function, darting about wildly in its sunken socket, and strips of flesh hung down from its torn up cheek, occasionally catching on its gnashing teeth. Its ragged stump of an arm dripped black fluid as it moved about and Jack caught a glimpse of off-white bone shifting within the gaping wound.

The four survivors had frozen and ducked down behind a rusted wreck of a van, its white paint yellowed in the sun. As they listened to the zombie approaching their eyes met in silent agreement. All of them held their breaths until Lieutenant Winters nodded the go ahead. As one they leapt out of cover and started running.

The sudden movement instantly alerted the nearby undead, who let out savage snarls and began to pursue. Lieutenant Winters, Bill and Sue quickly reached the corner and turned down the adjacent street. Jack moved to follow but at last second noticed motion in the corner of his eye and turned to bring his metal pipe down onto the undead that had been approaching the van moments ago. It’s shoulder crumpled where Jack had struck it, and without hesitating Jack brought the pipe back in a return swing that slammed it into the side of the zombie’s head. It split open, skull cracked apart, and the zombie collapsed to the concrete, dark blood oozing out. 

For an instant Jack stood there, chest heaving with shock and exertion as he stared at the body. 

“Jack!” Lieutenant Winters shouted, having doubled back to check on him, waving him over.

Hefting his makeshift weapon and ignoring the bits of flesh stuck to it – some with hair still attached – Jack raced over and followed the Lieutenant down the side road and back along a wide alley that allowed entry to the back of the shops and the apartments above them. Behind them echoed the sounds of the undead giving chase. The two quickly approached a fenced off area. Bill and Sue were already on the other side, looking back at them worriedly.

“I’ll give you a leg up!” Lieutenant Winters said as they approached the high metal fence. 

“I’m fine!” Jack called back without breaking his stride, taking a run up and jumping with all the force he could muster, flinging his arms forward for momentum and catching the top railing of the fence, swinging his legs over to one side before dropping and landing in a roll to ease the impact on his legs.

Safe for a moment, Jack paused to catch his breath, ignoring Bill and Sue’s surprised looks to check on Lieutenant Winters, watching the older man clamber up and over the fence, dropping heavily to the ground on their side.

All of them backed away from the fence as several infected ploughed into it, bony hands and arms outstretched and clawing through the bars in a desperate bid to reach the survivors. 

“Let’s hope we can get in this way or else we’re trapped,” Bill said darkly as they turned and hurried towards the building’s rear entrance. It was unlocked, and the four of them entered cautiously; their caution paid off as with a low groan a rotting zombie hauled itself up from where it had collapsed near the counter and lumbered towards them. Sue was closest and swung her piece of scrap metal with all the force she could muster, burying it into the zombie’s head. She let the makeshift weapon go and the infected collapsed backwards with the metal piece still protruding from its face. It didn’t move again but the others remained on high alert for any others lurking nearby.

They quickly spread out and checked the rest of the store but it looked as through no other infected had broken in. Jack thought it was more likely that the one Sue had killed had been the shop owner or an employee who’d been left behind in the store rather than one that had wandered in. Either way, they met back up to decide what their next move would be.

“Okay, all of us need a weapon. Place like this should have some blades we can use,” Lieutenant Winters began.

“We need more batteries, for the torches and anything else we find,” Sue said. “And some pliers? Something to cut through padlocks or metal gates, maybe.” Jack nodded. 

“Some nails, hammers, saws…stuff for fortifying the place,” Jack added. 

“Keep an eye out for a portable cooker. Might be some other camping goods around that could be useful too,” Bill said, a bit of enthusiasm in his voice. “Alright, let’s see what we can rustle up.” They spread out and moved through the aisles, this time checking the shelves and workbenches. It didn’t take them long to find the things they were looking for, and Bill had found a backpack left over in the staff room.

Jack swung his new machete through the air, glad to have a more practical weapon in his hand. Lieutenant Winters shouldered the backpack once they’d loaded it up with supplies and Bill hefted a plastic bin he was using to help carry a small portable cooker. All of them had bladed weapons of some kind but although Lieutenant Winters had checked carefully the only ammunition they’d found was useless with his weapon.

“Man, I’m starvin’,” Bill muttered as they approached the main entrance to the shop, unlocking it from the inside. 

“We still need to siphon some fuel too,” Sue added. Jack nodded in agreement. The mention of hunger had drawn his attention to his own growling stomach. 

Lieutenant Winters checked the street outside briefly before turning to the others. “We’ll see if we can find a place that might have some cans or dried food. Looks like most of the zombies were drawn away by the little chase earlier so the street looks clear for now.”

Once again the small group was moving carefully back down the street, heading back towards the storage building that had become their unspoken base. They checked a few more shops including a small supermarket, but the building had been almost completely cleaned out. Luckily Jack had spotted a small vending machine in what had once been a newsagent. It had taken them half an hour of tense tries to pry the machine open but they had been rewarded with several bags of crisps and a handful of chocolate bars.

They’d also stopped by a few of the cars nearer to their building to try and siphon some gas from the abandoned vehicles. Jack had stood guard with Lieutenant Winters while Bill and Sue struggled to get as much as they could from the half-empty tanks. They’d only managed a couple of litres before some approaching undead had forced the group to move on, Sue lugging the plastic container with the gasoline. 

By the time they arrived back at the storage building it was already getting late. Jack figured they must have slept most of the morning away due to their exhaustion; he could feel it creeping up on him again, the stress of remaining constantly alert on top of the little water and lack of food making him feel half asleep. Even so, he and Bill checked out all the floors of the building to make sure it was still secure while Sue and Lieutenant Winters set up their supplies.

Once the small group of survivors was settled back on their mattresses and had tucked into their food - the snacks just taking the edge off the hunger – Jack found himself starting to nod off as they sat deciding their plans for the next day. Sue noticed him starting to drift off and with a small smile suggested they call it a night.

“Sounds good,” Bill agreed, trying to get comfortable and allowing Sue to cuddle up next to him.

“We had a good run today, “ Lieutenant Winters added. “Tomorrow we’ll see about getting out of here, maybe finding some transport.”

Jack had intended to add his agreement but sleep had taken him before he could. The success of the day’s finds helped stave off most of his nightmares, but even so the image of purpled skin against green silk, gnashing teeth and a bloodied pipe lingered.

\---

The next day found the group once more looking for supplies whilst heading towards the city outskirts. Sue had snatched up a map of the area from the newsagents the previous day, which they were using to get their bearings. 

The number of undead shuffling around grew steadily as they crept through the city, until they were unable to go any further for fear of alerting the hordes. The group ducked into a nearby shop to consult the map once more and plan their direction.

“It must’ve been the crash that drew ‘em in,” Bill muttered unhappily. 

“Yeah,” Jack agreed, “A horde this size is pretty unusual.”

Lieutenant Winters sighed in annoyance. “They’ll probably disperse a bit over the next few days, but this is the most direct route out of the city. We’ll have to try and go around.”

With that decided the group doubled back, trying a few other routes with little success. Defeated for the moment, the four began moving back towards the storage building.

“If we can’t break through now we should focus on getting enough supplies to last a few more days, “ Sue said as they moved carefully down the back streets. 

“We could start checking the flats and houses near the shop,” Jack volunteered, keeping an eye out for any undead lurking nearby. The others stopped for a moment and it took Jack a minute to figure out they weren’t alongside him. He turned to look at them in confusion. “What?”

Lieutenant Winters shook his head and they started moving forward again. “Why didn’t we think of that?” He muttered to himself in annoyance. “Not like anyone’s going to notice anyway. Nice going, Jack.”

Jack shrugged self-consciously. “I broke into a few places for supplies back when the infection first hit,” he confessed. “Although by that point most people had packed up and left.”

Sue smiled at him. “At least we won’t have to worry about any alarms. They’ll all be dead by now.”

“We still have to be careful not to make too much noise,” Lieutenant Winters cautioned, “Unless one of us knows how to pick locks, we’ll have to break windows or doors to get in.”

“If we stick together we’ll be fine,” Bill said determinedly as they approached a small park area. It had become overgrown with weeds and dead leaves were scattered about without anyone to clean them up. Several drains were clogged, but there hadn’t been rain for a few days so the leaves crackled underfoot as they moved alongside the greenery. 

Jack noticed a peculiar branch lying amidst some debris where a car had crashed into the fence surrounding the park with enough force to jar a tree over slightly and knock down some of its lower branches. “Hang on a second, guys,” he said as he picked his way over, checking around for any undead that might be nearby.

“What is it?” Sue asked as Jack bent down to pull something from the mess. It took a few moments but eventually he was able to free the branch that had caught his eye.

“Check it out!” Jack smiled as he held the branch aloft. It was smooth enough to hold, but what had caught his eye was the shape of one end, almost like a shepherd’s crook. “Could be useful for grabbing stuff or opening high windows or something,” he added, seeing the unsure looks on the other’s faces.

“Oh, I see,” Sue nodded in realisation. There was the sound of a rattling moan from nearby which the set the four on alert as Jack hurried back over to the group, holding the branch like a staff.

Bill located the undead, lying half-collapsed across a car dashboard, where he quickly beheaded it to prevent it alerting any other zombies to their location. Hearts hammering in their chests, they strained to listen for any other undead, but there was nothing else nearby. With relieved glances they set off once again, ready to check the residential buildings around their temporary base for supplies.

Breaking-and-entering was slow going. They had to check each flat and each building to see if they were unlocked, and many of them had doors that were too sturdy to break down without a great deal of noise; however they did find a few unlocked flats and ones with opened or broken windows they could sneak through, which yielded several tins of food and a few other, smaller supplies – spoons and forks, another backpack, some bottled water – that made the task worthwhile. 

Despite still being trapped in the city, the group kept their hopes up – aided by some hot soup thanks to the portable cooker – believing they would survive and find a way out.

\---

Several days without any success at finding a path through the horde quickly dampened the group’s spirits, and then the worst happened.

During their scavenging and exploring the city, waiting for the hordes to disperse enough to let them pass, the group had experienced a few close calls with small groups of undead pursuing them until they could fight them off or reach safety. However, as time drew on and the group became more desperate to escape the city, they began to slip up and make small mistakes.

They had been sneaking along one of the smaller roads several blocks away from where the crash had happened. Several smaller groups of undead had been roaming around, so the group had been careful to keep low, ducking behind cars and dumpsters, moving slowly to avoid attracting attention. 

And then, as they were about to head back, Bill’s foot had caught an empty can and sent it skittering out into the road.

The sound had been too loud and echoed off the nearby buildings, and almost as one, all the undead in the area had turned in their direction. All four held their breath, not daring to move, but it was already too late; the undead nearest them had already started to move, the usual absent groans growing into loud snarls of hunger.

Jack’s breath caught in his throat and he stood frozen to the spot for what seemed like far too long, watching the undead draw closer. 

“RUN!” Yelled Lieutenant Winters when it became clear that the growing horde was aware of their presence. Not needing to be told twice all four took off as fast as they could, heading back towards their base, uncaring of the noise they made in their haste.

The sound of pursuit picked up behind them as the undead began lumbering forwards in a jerky, desperate motion, picking up as much speed as they could. As the hungry growls followed them down the street even more undead were drawn to the commotion, and far too soon all four survivors were having to fight their way through.

Jack was lashing out with his machete in one hand, using his staff in the other to knock away those ahead of him. Adrenaline was pouring through him and he could feel the sweat beginning to drip down his face, his breaths coming in gasps as he fought forwards, vaguely aware of Bill and Lieutenant Winters nearby. The soldier had pulled out his gun; the gunshots cracked through the air, far too loud, and ahead of them several infected dropped, heads exploding with gore.

“Shit!” Jack heard Lieutenant Winters swear furiously as an approaching undead managed to knock the gun from his hand, forcing him to fight off the terrifyingly strong grip of the starved infected using his machete. Bill raced forwards and snatched the gun up from where it had fallen; Jack had to lunge forwards and lashed out, decapitating one of the undead as it attacked Bill while he was distracted. The three of them broke through into a small area clear of the undead, giving them a second to catch their breath.

“Sue?” Bill asked, voice hoarse, and that was when Jack realised he hadn’t seen the woman nearby. “Sue! SUE!!” Bill began bellowing, looking around desperately for his wife. Jack spun, trying to spot her as well, but all he could see were more undead quickly approaching – 

“BILL!!” Sue’s terrified scream cut through the sound of the starving undead. Bill immediately turned towards her voice and began moving in her direction, calling out her name again. Sue screamed once more, and that was when Jack spotted her, surrounded by a hungry pack of undead that were clawing at her, tearing into her skin.

“NO! SUE!” Bill cried, lashing out and trying to reach her, but Jack knew it was already too late. Sue let out another scream as one of the infected sank its teeth into her shoulder, brutally ripping out a chunk of flesh, blood flying. Jack couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even registering Lieutenant Winters tugging him forwards, away from the scene. Bill made a sound of devastation at the sight, and Jack glanced over at him just in time to see him raise the hand holding the gun.

Time seemed to stretch impossibly as Bill took aim and pulled the trigger.

Sue’s head flew back at the impact, her pained screams abruptly cut off. Within moments she was buried under the hungry pack of undead as they tore into her. Their hunger was so great that they would leave nothing left of her.

The gunshot had drawn yet more of the horde and they fell upon Bill like a wave, dragging him forward and tearing into his skin, flaying him open even as he struggled to raise his arm once more, this time to his own head.

Jack clenched his eyes shut as Bill pulled the trigger.

“Jack, snap out of it! Move!” Lieutenant Winters snarled at him, yanking on his arm furiously as he struggled to get the two of them away from the approaching horde. 

With a choked sob Jack turned and followed the soldier, both of them lashing out with their weapons. The undead seemed never-ending; they were barely given a chance to catch their breath before another was lunging towards them, their rotten flesh and congealed blood soaking their weapons, splattering on the ground.

“Hurry! Move!” Lieutenant Winters snapped again, and Jack was forced to focus on nothing more than surviving, ignoring the pain in his limbs as they fought on. Finally the two of them broke through the worst of the horde and they charged on, seeing their escape just ahead.

And then Jack could only stare in shock as another pack of undead surged out of an alleyway to slam into Lieutenant Winters, knocking him to the ground and tearing into each other in their frenzied attempt to reach living flesh. Teeth and nails tore through the soldier’s clothing and even as he fought back, clenching his machete in his faltering hand and trying to kill as many as possible, the undead simply ignored their own wounds and bore down on him.

Between the mass of flailing limbs Jack could just make out Lieutenant Winter’s wide-eyed face, terror and agony twisting it almost unrecognisably. Jack couldn’t look away, frozen in fear.

And then, using the last of his strength, Lieutenant Winters managed to choke out, “RUN, JACK!”

And he ran, faster than he ever had before.

Terror tore through him. The wails of the starving undead grew louder as they approached, stumbling closer as fast as they could, bloodied arms outstretched and clawing at him. Jack spun around, trying to find a clear path through the mob, lashing out with his staff and his blade, barrelling forwards as soon as he saw a gap. Torn up hands grabbed at him, catching on his hood, but adrenaline gave him the strength to tear away and run as fast as his feet could carry him. 

The shambling mass behind him gave chase immediately. From all around Jack could hear more approaching. Desperate, he raced onwards, almost tripping over the debris littering the street. Turning down an alley he nearly ran straight into an infected, ducking just in time and his momentum carrying him forward, faster, faster. His heart was pounding so loudly he could have sworn the undead could hear it. 

More of the creatures appeared at the end of the alleyway. Head swimming with adrenaline and fear pounding through his veins, Jack spotted a fire escape raised off the ground nearby. Without thinking, without slowing his speed, he leapt onto a nearby dumpster and then threw himself towards the rungs of the rusted latter, just barely catching it with the crook of his staff, arms and shoulders flaring in pain at the abrupt movement. The infected nearest to him began reaching up, clutching at his feet as he scrambled to haul himself up his staff onto the ladder, arms protesting at the strain.

Finally curling his body up and getting a foot on the bottom rung, Jack fairly flew up the ladder onto the metal deck, not stopping as he continued to ascend until he was high enough to make the jump onto the next building. He was so focused on his escape the possibility of falling never even occurred to him. He just barely cleared the gap and kept running, crossing over several buildings before collapsing between two air conditioning units.

His entire body was shaking. It didn’t even register that he was crying, the shock catching up with him as he tried to stifle his chocked gasps, lungs burning for air. Wrapping his arms around his legs, his staff clenched tightly in his hands, Jack curled up into a ball and trembled. He clenched his eyes shut and grit his teeth. Adrenaline was still pumping through him but his body could no longer keep up. Nausea bubbled in his throat. His head felt like it was shrinking and expanding at the same time.

He had never been so terrified. 

Jack remained there, curled up on the rooftop until the sun reached its highest point. 

He was alone, stranded within an infected city with little or no hope of rescue.

The shrieks and moans of the undead echoed in his ears long after the hoard itself had dispersed.


End file.
